


Spoils of War

by devilsduplicity



Category: Priest (2011)
Genre: Angst, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-15
Updated: 2011-05-15
Packaged: 2017-11-29 23:43:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/692886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/devilsduplicity/pseuds/devilsduplicity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It isn't until later that Lucy finds out her captor has... unusual plans for her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Spoils of War

**Who:** Black Hat/Lucy  
 **What:** It isn't until later that Lucy finds out her captor has... unusual plans for her.  
 **When:** Canon AU, post-kidnapping  
 **Word Count:** 276  
 **Warnings:** PG; WIP, which I might just repeatedly amend.

He drags her back, kicking and screaming, her soft, delicate body hiked up against his hard, rough lines. One arm around her waist is all it takes, but her cries (devolving swiftly from desperate to frustrated) are difficult to control.

"Quiet," he says, pulling her through the desert towards the hive -- the hub of activity. It's a hideous, dark line cutting cruel and black against the whitewashed sky, towering like some sort of magnificent monument.

He hates it, golden eyes narrowed at the prospect of burying himself in the filth and stench of a prison he'd learned to call home.

Lucy, all thin limbs and bony structures, puts up an impressive fight for someone so small, but she's frightened, helpless, and after a while the struggle only seems pathetic.

"Where are you taking me?" she asks, syllables slurred together in her rush to push them out so she could pull in another shuddering breath. Her head twists around to stare at the abandoned train shrinking away in the distance, and she finds herself pining for the dark, dank cage she'd left behind.

"I had assumed that was perfectly obvious," her captor growls, and Lucy hates that she can feel the heat of his breath flutter across the top of her head -- hates that it makes her tremble.

"Let me go," she says, gasping when the arm cinched around her waist starts to tighten.

"No."

They're close enough now that Lucy can pick out the sickening scent of stale blood against the arid desert background.

" _Please_."

Her captor pauses, as if considering, then pulls her roughly along.

"No."

  
 

  
 


End file.
